Just Gone
by vvheel
Summary: Her fingers curled around his through the chain-link fence. And then he lost her again. Bethyl.


**Disclaimer: Everything I'm being creative with here belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya.**

_"__There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one." _  
><em>― <em>Kazuo Ishiguro

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><p>Daryl Dixon couldn't think when gunfire surrounded him. He'd taught himself soon after the turn to get used to them, to drown them out, because you can't stab walkers when you ears were ringing and you were worrying about who was shooting who and why and where and how. These were things Rick worried about. These were the things that were probably going to drive Rick insane.<p>

For the time being, they were driving him insane. Long gone were the lessons he'd taught himself in drowning out gunfire to watch his own back. Because he couldn't drown out a single detail of the place. The chance that he would miss her, a glimpse of her voice or blonde hair, was too great. His losses were too great. And it was going to get him killed.

He stood against the hospital's outer fencing, panting and clutching his crossbow with white knuckles. The fence stood tall, even taller than the prison ones had been, and the chan-links would have been easily climbable if it weren't for the barbed wire that curled around the tops in thick clumps. Some of the barbed wire was still tinged red, red with the blood of prisoners trying to escape. Prisoners like Beth.

He heard a scream somewhere near him and turned to see what was happening, but the chaos and the gunfire and the walkers who were fucking _everywhere_ blinded him. He couldn't even tell if the scream was a man or a woman. Wouldn't find out until they were back at the camp. If they ever got back to the camp.

He ran along the chain-link fence, killing every walker in his path. At one point Maggie had been next to him, but he didn't see her anymore. Chances were she'd found Glenn and joined her husband in the fight.

And that's when he saw a figure in blue, running along the opposite side of the fence from him. Following the figure came a whole group of other figures, clad in the kind of outfits you'd see nurses in hospitals wearing. Scrubs, he supposed they were called when the world made sense.

The looks on their faces were pure panic and before he could register who was chasing them, a herd of walkers came stumbling up to him, clad in police uniforms. He cursed, grabbing his crossbow and shooting down the first wave of them before he had to resort to the hunting knife. Once he was done, he was able to grab most of the arrows from their skulls and move on.

The group in blue was gone. He had no time to think where they could be, because a group of walkers were in the place they had been, a couple of them threw themselves at him and he'd quickly stabbed them through the gates. Just like when he was at the prison. Back when he still felt safe on the outside and unsafe on the inside. And when he'd run off with Beth into the deep woods, through the burning cabin, and across the funeral home, he had felt the complete opposite. Unsafe on the outside, but safe on the inside. And it had made a hell of a lot more sense how things were originally.

Now? Well, now he was unsafe in every fucking way and it was all her fault. A small group had collected at the fence near him and he'd picked them off one by one. Just as the last one came scrambling up to him, he was surprised to see it jolt in agony as it sunk to the ground. The walker was tossed to the side with a grunt and he stared stupidly for a moment at the pair of scissors lodged in the back of its skull before looking up and seeing a ghost.

Her eyes were grayer than they had been at the funeral home, scars marking the smooth skin of her cheek and forehead. She was panting hard, but didn't seem affected by her actions. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she quickly grabbed the scissors, pulling them out with a wet squish and tucking them, bloody and all, into the pants the hospital had unoubtedly dressed her in. Her hair was sticking to her face and she looked like she hadn't slept in days and he couldn't imagine her more beautiful if he tried.

Slowly, she approached him, mirroring the shock on his face. She leaned forward, fingers curling in the chain-link fence as she whispered, "Daryl?"

"Beth." was all he could reply. Same as before, he couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling and she took it upon herself to lead them both.

Gently, she touched his face lightly with her fingertips through the chain-link and he cursed, grabbing the fence and trying to pull himself up. He didn't get very far when she called him again. "Daryl, wait!" He stopped, frozen in place by her voice again. It was far shakier than the confident tone she'd used in the funeral home. "There's too much barbed wire. You'll get yourself killed."

"Don't care." He mumbled, grabbing the fence again, but visibly calmed when she curled her fingers around his through the fence. Never had he wanted to tear something down so badly. He hadn't noticed how much he had been panting, how frantic he had looked because it didn't matter, this was _Beth._ After a goddamn lifetime of losing her she was right the fuck here and a fucking metal fence wasn't going to stop him.

"Daryl..." she whispered, sounding sadder than she had been. "I have to go."

He stared at her, a loss for words, until he pratically yelled out through his harsh breathing. "Washington, D.C. They're going to Washington." And he didn't know why he was scrambling to tell her this until she graced him with a smile, full of sadness and hope. A smile that would haunt him. Had already been haunting him.

"We'll find each other."

He stared at her, right into those eyes that had gone gray, with a thousand promises screaming in his head but he couldn't say them, because she was already backing away from him. He grabbed the fence, shaking it violently under his weight, and called out to her. "Beth!"

She looked at him with the same sad smile, tears brimming in her eyes that betrayed her hard demeanor. "I'm so sorry Daryl. I have to go." And he heard the gunshots and the groaning again and saw the hoard of walkers coming her way.

With one last glance and a hitched breath, she turned away from him and ran.


End file.
